


Under My Umbrella

by mechadogmarron



Series: The Whos and Whats of Love [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Other, Polyamory, Post-series/Rebuilding Year, Sibling Bonding, The Stolen Century, objectum sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechadogmarron/pseuds/mechadogmarron
Summary: Lup's pretty sure she's got the love thing down pat. She's got the most wonderful husband she could ever imagine - charming, funny, loving, good-looking. She's got the best brother anyone could ever wish for. But when she completes her training at the Hanging Arcaneum, she finds herself falling in love all over again.Thankfully, her family has her back.





	1. The Creation

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the same timeline as Pants. Sturdy. Denim. And Blue. If you like this you'll probably like that, but it's not a necessary read by any means. In short, Barry has been in a romantic relationship with his favorite blue jeans since he was 15, and married them when he was much younger; Lup and Barry got engaged at the Legato Conservatory, and got married a few years later.

The moment she held that smooth, curved wood, humming with mystical energy, empowered by the forces of every single school of magic and then some, Lup knew she was in love.

“It looks good,” Holdsworth told her. “Worthy of the Arcaneum.”

“It looks fucking excellent, you mean.” She ran a hand down its handle, feeling the carefully selected tung oil finish over the mahogany. Its enchanted fabric was dyed in complicated patterns of sapphire, emerald, and amethyst, aglow with mystical energies she’d carefully weaved into every thread. It was a piece of true art, of genius artificing, and of perfect design — the Platonic ideal of umbrellas. If her teacher hadn’t been there, she would’ve pressed her face against it, to feel it closer to her, to know its gentle presence and touch and the sensation of its mutual adoration.

Lup met the first love of her life the day she was born, which was a pretty trick deal. It wasn’t a romantic love, but that didn’t make her bond with her brother any cheaper, any less defining. Taako, Taako was her heart. She’d met the second love of her life at that IPRE mixer, built their love through decades of studying and learning together.

She was pretty sure right then, standing in the artificer’s lab with her teacher, that she’d just found the third, and it wasn’t Holdsworth.

“Yeah, yeah. Excellent. You and your husband seem to have a real aptitude for this type of work compared to the other louts you came in with. No offense.”

“There is literally no situation in which someone calling my brother a lout would offend me. Can you, like, mark this off as complete real quick? I _need_ to test it out.”

“Of course. It’s in the field that we find whether our work holds up. Will you be dueling with Barry? He’s in Ward B studying an enchanted pipe organ right now, I believe, but it’s not terribly important work.”

“Oh, no, deffo not.” He’d figure her out, like, immediately. She didn’t need that before she’d even tested the Umbra Staff out. They could talk that over later. Soft-hearted as he was, he’d probably be delighted. “I gotta duel my brother first.” With a flourish of her old wand, she wrapped paper around her new staff, though she could still feel its comforting presence even through it. “I mean, he and I have been dueling since before we could even do a first-level spell. Barry and I generally don’t square up. It’s going to give me a much more realistic perspective.”

“Good thought. I hate to take him away from his efforts, but seeing you succeed might help drive him to actually do proper _work_ on his… ‘KrebStar.’ Right now, he’s just hot glueing rhinestones to it. He hasn’t been the most studious learner.”

“Is he seriously calling it that?”

“Yes.”

Her brother was, indeed, goofing off when she arrived, doodling pictures of how cool and badass the KrebStar was and his new plans to class it up even more with the shittiest, hugest glass gems. “Oh, hey, Lup! You’ve got to look at these designs. It’s classy.”

“It’s tacky. Now, unlike you, I’ve actually been working, so I was thinking we could head out to the woods, have a classic Family Duel.”

“Sure. It’s not like I’m working on _core design documents_ for my _very important project_ or anything. What’s the wager?”

“If I win, you have to stop drawing pictures of the KrebStar and actually work on enchanting it. Just because you’ve minted a really badass weapon doesn’t mean it’s done. My sick-ass one here does more than just cast super baller fireballs. Also, stop skipping morning lessons. Holdsworth is personally training us, you know. As much as I love goofing off, I think this really could be our shot. Now, if you win, I’ll give you all my extra shit so you can bedazzle the KrebStar even more.”

“Classic. You’re on!”

The clearing was lovely, idyllic, the exact kind of place for a down-and-out sibling duel-off. She settled down on her knees before her newly minted and already much-beloved weapon, making herself prone to whatever Taako’s first strike would be.

It was only fair. His KrebStar was just a plain glaive right now. Her Umbra Staff was _way_ past that.

He opened with the classic Fireball, a mainstay of their duels ever since they’d been high enough level to actually manage it. A few extra spell levels made it the kind of thing that would really singe — but with a quick roll, she mostly avoided it, thanking her Flipwizard abilities. With a flourish, her beautiful creation was revealed.

No dodging for him, because Magic Missles never missed. And even if he was a dick about the Umbra Staff’s aesthetics, well, he was probably just pissed he lost.

“I still can’t believe,” he told her, running to catch up so they could walk back together and thus completely defeating the point of her parting shot/walk away combo, “that you made such a ridiculous creation. It’s an umbrella, Lup. It’s not even a dainty little sun parasol. It’s a straight up rain repeller. Also, there’s no such thing as a cool clown.”

“There is totally such a thing, and it’s me any time I look like a clown. The Umbra Staff is dope as hell, Koko.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s tacky, Lulu.”

“What, and a bunch of fake gems on a pointy Frisbee isn’t? At least the Umbra Staff isn’t _cheap_. This thing is grade-A, 100% perfect. I mean, look at it, Taako. You know what this mahogany handle is finished with? Fucking tung oil. Even Magnus couldn’t work a piece of wood this good. And the fabric - I mean, just use your eyes. The perfect blending of a cool, deep gemstone palette with soft silk, enchanted for both sturdiness and elemental resistance. This thing is built to last. Every single school of magic is delicately woven into its form. It is literally the most beautiful accessory imaginable.”

“You sound like Barry trying to justify wearing jeans to yet another way-too-formal event.” Taako rolled his eyes. “It’s just an umbrella! Being a kickass staff cannot make umbrellas on sunny days look good.”

“There’s no _just_ about it. Taako, this is the best umbrella ever made. Completely without flaw. It’s like the Fantasy Jesus of umbrellas. And if I sound like Barry, well, at least he understands _true craftsmanship_.”

“I don’t think Barry’s perspective on jeans is all that based on _true craftsmanship_ , Lulu. Wait. Oh my God. Lulu. You aren’t — you aren’t _crushing_ on the umbrella, are you?”

“Don’t ask questions you aren’t prepared to hear the answers to, dear.”

“I can’t believe my sister’s in love with an umbrella. Lulu. Lulu, have you told Barold yet? Does he know you’re now in his club of people who fall in love with _ugly_ clothes items?”

“No, I didn’t — I didn’t realize until I finished enchanting it. You know, like an hour ago at most. And as for ugly, well, at least it’s not held together by hot glue. You keep calling it high fantasy, which I guess is accurate, in the sense that designing it clearly involved getting high and having some pretty wack fantasies.”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, you obviously put your heart and soul into that thing. I have spent literally maybe five hours on the KrebStar so far. I haven’t even picked an enchantment.”

“If you’re going to miss by a _mile_ , like you did before, try the Mulligan’s Blessing. I mean seriously, what even was that?”

“Hey, most people don’t have the family dexterity scores. You know if it was Magnus he would’ve been one big first-degree burn.”

“He’s a fighter, they don’t feel pain.” Lup shrugged. “C’mon, hurry up. You’ve got to make some progress before dinner — otherwise you might end up with cafeteria food. You don’t want to miss out on Barry’s cooking.”

“It’s as boring as he is!”

“Oh, don’t fuss. Barry’s getting a lot better. He’s just… a little nervous around the spice rack. He didn’t grow up with these kinds of intense and zesty flavors. You can always add more at the table.” She smiled. “You know, he’s really a darling. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about him being weird about this whole… Umbra Staff thing. Koko, I don’t know how to explain it, but the moment I took it out of the enchantment bath and cleared the ritual space, I _knew_. I knew it was beautiful, it was perfect. Love at first sight. I mean, aren’t all wizards at least a little attached to their wands? We keep them safe, they keep us safe. It’s a real bond.”

“See, I’d get on your case, but statistically you’re way luckier in love than I am. So if you’re in love with an umbrella, well, at least it’s a really badass umbrella. Still ugly, but like, as non-ugly as an umbrella could possibly be.” Taako shrugged. “Man, I’m sure if I dated an umbrella it would come to life exclusively to ask for a divorce.”

“I mean, we’re not really dating. Since I finished it like an hour ago, tops. Maybe I could double date with Barry and his jeans. Quadruple date. Sit under one of those big sun parasols, and also under my umbrella, enjoying all of our presences… sounds nice. Every woman’s dream date — a sexy dude, his girlfriend who is a pair of pants, a hot umbrella, all out on a nice picnic.”

“Lulu, I love you to death, but I do not want to hear about your dream date.” They’d reached the front of the academy. “I assume telling people about this is a no-no?”

“Just for now. It’s not a secret or anything, but I want to give it time, to really explore these feelings and make sure everything’s good, you know? I mean, obviously I’m gonna tell Barold right away, but you know Merle would be weird about it. Like, weirdly supportive, but still weird.”

“Oh god, I can only imagine. Thankfully I’m just a ‘way beneath me ugly dude who doesn’t treat me right’ fucker.” He shrugged. “Well, I’m going to go actually work on the KrebStar now.”

“No problem. I’ll have some of my extra shinies sent your way. Not like I need them.” She waved him off, then went to find Barry, enjoying the soft feel of her newest crush’s slippery-smooth fabric and perfect handle in her arms. He’d get it, he’d understand. He’d probably have legitimately good advice for how to express to an umbrella that she wanted to have a romantic dinner together.

Lup got a warm feeling from the Umbra Staff when she said that, like it was excited, like it felt just as much joy thinking about having some steak and a couple wands while watching the sun set out by the sea. She grinned.

He was among the instrument artificers in Ward B when she found him, just like Holdsworth had said. The song he was playing on the pipe organ had a somber, churchy sort of tone, no doubt meant to express the great and holy power of some deity or another. She could feel the magic in the air with each note — not the metaphorical magic of music, or even the typical Bardic Inspiration type mysticism, but something very wizardly, very classic. It was as if there was just a little more spring in her step.

He stopped playing when he noticed her, turning to look at her, and the feeling quickly disappeared. “Pretty neat, huh? It’s an incredibly powerful artifact — lets wizards cast spells as if they were one level lower, turns first-level spells into cantrips. Of course, someone has to actually be playing it, and given the range, it’s not very practical in battle, but could you imagine how much good something like this could do in a medical setting? Normally clerics are forced to use long, challenging rituals when they run out of spell slots, and sometimes time is of the essence.”

“That’s incredible, babe! What a cool find. You thinking about taking a couple levels in bard?”

“Nah. I like playing, but I’ve already multiclassed way too much. First-level bards don’t really get much wizards or fighters don’t anyways. Oh, hey, is that your artifact? It’s beautiful!”

“It really is. Look, Barold, I’ve got a confession to make. To anyone else, I’d be real nervous about the whole thing, but knowing you, I’m not scared at all. It’s a bit of a big deal, though.”

“Well, shucks, you know you can tell me anyways. Isn’t that the point of these rings?” They each wore one, a symbol of their love and commitment; another hung off his belt loop, representative of that adoration and loyalty. Barry wasn’t the kind of guy whose heart could belong to any one person; he loved too much and too deeply for that. “Is it something I can help with?”

“Kind of. You remember, all those decades ago, when I told you I couldn’t understand you and your jeans, but I’d try to respect it? Well, I think I understand now.”

“You mean —”

“Yup. Barry, I know I just met it, I know it’s partially the excitement that comes with falling for someone new, but there’s no other way to put it — I’m already in love with the Umbra Staff.”

Barry grinned. “I can’t imagine something more beautiful in the whole world. It’s your first object relationship?”

“Yup.”

“Got any questions?”

“Yeah, just one for now — how the hell do I plan a date?”


	2. First Dates

Lup laid the blanket out, making sure the anti-ants enchantment was active. Even knowing it didn’t have to be absolutely perfect, she _wanted_ it to be. This was important. She arranged the little plate of stones she’d brought with, each item’s position colored by careful thought. No parasol today, even in the middle of the day; it just didn’t seem right, and sun elves, by the virtue of their connection to their ruling star, didn’t tend to burn. Coming from a planet with two suns probably helped too — the Arcaneum only had one.

Despite her nerves, she grinned, taking a seat and picking up her newly-beloved staff. This date was going to go amazing.

She’d followed all of Barry’s advice, of course. He’d thought about it for a moment, but then she’d offered some legitimately .“Think about the kinds of things you’d enjoy doing with me, and the kinds of things you think the Umbra Staff would like. Um, maybe it likes doing its job, the kind of things it’s developed for. My jeans like being worn, for instance, so for dates I wear her and we go together and do nice things, go on walks. Back home, there was a lovely little lake near the campus, so we’d go eat lunch there, watch the ducks. Listen to your heart.”

“Yeah, but what do I _do_?” she’d responded. “I haven’t — I haven’t had it very long, I don’t have a deep connection or anything, it’s not like I — I mean, I love it, but it’s not like I hear its voice telling me what to do!”

“Forming a connection takes time, and although there are certainly some who hear voices from their objects, I never have. You don’t need to — I don’t love my jeans because they communicate and act just like a person, I love and respect them for their own ways of communicating. It’s a first date, so you don’t need to go all out, and it doesn’t need to be perfect. You like magic, and your staff probably likes magic, so try doing something magical!”

“Alright,” she’d said, and she’d started planning.

And so here Lup was, on her awesome magical umbrella date. She held her date close in her arms, letting herself explore the sensory experience of being with an item that already meant so much to her, that would clearly mean even more in the coming days. She’d always had a fondness for silk, something she and her brother had never been able to afford during their days as guttersnipes. She’d stolen a handkerchief from a woman during one of their various grifts, rubbing the soft fabric against her face until it became worn and raw. She’d cried when they lost it, but in her four hundred, now almost five hundred years, the memory had faded. Feeling the Umbra Staff against herself brought those memories back.

Huh. Maybe these emotions weren’t as new as they felt.

The Umbra Staff’s fabric was even finer, a weave far beyond their home plane’s technology. Much like the Hanging Arcaenum, theirs had been a Plane of Thought, not a Prime Material Plane, but where the Arcaneum had perfected in every sense of the world the art of creation, of form, of things, their own people had sought other worlds, other places. The cloth here was more closely woven, the swords sharper, the armor tougher. The silkworms were of a different species, both bred and magicked for ideal fibers, stronger and more beautiful than even the mulberry silkworms of home. Running a hand along it was like touching a cloud; burying her face in it was utterly indescribable. Even without the strange, romantic feelings she held for it, it would have been intense, but with them it was simultaneously one of the best things she’d ever felt and almost painful in its overstimulation.

With a sigh, she pulled away. It might’ve just been her imagination, but it felt like the staff was thrumming with anticipation, with interest, with curiosity. With a smile, she pointed it at the pile of stones she’d brought.

Lup was, by trade, an Evocationist, but she’d specialized in transfigurations as a youth — more because it was extremely practical than because she really preferred it, a way to turn pebbles on the street into food on the table. Going back to casting those spells always felt like going home. Sometimes it wasn’t such a great sensation, but here, safe, it was a comfortable nostalgia. One stone became a zesty twist on the classic tomato salad, another a picnic ham. A pitcher of lemonade, a pan of muffins. She laughed, feeling her magic flow through the staff, channeled into her supplies.

Casting always felt good. Casting like this was even better.

In the end, she had way more food than anyone could’ve eaten — the whole Starblaster probably couldn’t’ve finished the transfigured feast. It all tasted fine, about as good as entirely conjured or transfigured food ever tasted. Raw ingredients were easy-peasy, but duplicating the cooking process was almost entirely impossible.

“It’s my turn to cook dinner,” she told the staff, only feeling a little goofy for conversing with an inanimate object, “so I probably should’ve just made a sandwich and some chips, light lunch and all that, but you know how it is.” She took a bite of one of her muffins, grimacing. “Also, I should’ve made these banana instead. Blueberry muffins are impossible to transfigure. You never get the blueberry distribution right, and it’s more like weird blue mush masquerading as blueberries than actual blueberries. But I guess that means we can do this!”

With an expert Mage Hand, she hovered the pan over the edge of the Arcaneum island, then pointed her staff at it, focusing, letting the warmth of her magical energies coalesce and form into a great, burning ball of fire. With a loud whoop, she fired it.

No more muffins.

“Haha, great shot! Man, Taako would be jealous. He can’t hit worth a damn, you know. Ah, we should all get together for target practice sometime. Me, you, Barry, Barry’s girl, Taako, a couple wands… I’m sure they have some kind of artifact targets here, too, not that rocks and Mage Hands don’t do the job just fine. You know, if you make your own targets, that’s double the spell practice, at least until you run out of spell slots. Taako hasn’t hit the 20th level yet, so no signature spell for him! He just doesn’t apply himself enough. Me, I’ve got Fireball and Catnap, obviously. That’s seventeen Fireballs a long rest, if you spend all your higher level spell slots on Fireballs too. Before artifacts, to be clear. Not bad. I mean, I do cast other spells, and Meteor Swarm does a lot more than a 9th-level Fireball, but you’ve got to have a favorite. Do different spells feel different for you? Do you have a favorite school?”

The Umbra Staff, being a staff, didn’t respond in words, but she got the feeling it didn’t have a favorite school — after all, it had each and every one of them woven into its fibers. In the same sense, it didn’t particularly prefer any given spell; why would it? Every one of them was wonderful. Its purpose as a staff was channeling, and like most things it took great joy in that. It wanted to do magic, it wanted to eat wizards, it wanted to get in duels.

“I bet you would’ve liked to eat the KrebStar, huh? Eating such a shitty artifact would probably give you indigestion, although I do have to wonder what spell you’d get from Taako. Unfortunately I don’t think your enchantment is strong enough to pick up ninth-level spells. Speaking of ninth-level spells, did you know there’s absolutely nothing stopping you from turning yourself into a dragon, like, forever? And since dragons can turn into other stuff, like, as often as they want, it’s pretty much zero-cost. Being a lich, I’m not too terribly interested, but it’s useful for mortals. That’s why everyone on the Dragon Plane was a dragon. All the high level wizards got together and bam. Dragons. I guess you weren’t there for that…”

The conversation was a bit one-sided, for obvious reasons, but that didn’t make it any less nice to tell someone about all their adventures, someone who hadn’t actually been there. Planar residents were too short-lived, too fleeting. She didn’t share Taako’s complete detachment and carelessness towards them — he’d push one off a cliff for a crisp 15$ bill’s worth of the local currency — but she knew better than to really get close. Before she knew it, she was telling the Umbra Staff about the food of Tesseralia (the best she’d ever eaten), about the Conservatory duet (and her love for Barry, about the delicious jello-world (some of her companions may have found the denizen’s desire to be consumed uncomfortable, but she and Taako had both found it hilarious).

The Umbra Staff was someone new, someone she wasn’t already intimately acquaintanced with. Someone who was there to stay, for however many cycles they had left. “I think we’re nearing the end of our journey,” she told it. “I know — I know I should be excited, and I am, but it’s hard to think Barry’s probably only got 30, 40 years left in that body of his. I suppose Clones and the like can probably extend that, and of course after that he’ll have his lich form, but I’m kind of fond of the way he is now. And, well, it’s hard to be close as liches, you know? You can’t really touch one another. You can share a body for a while, but it’s just not the same.”

The Umbra Staff didn’t reply, but there was something comforting about holding it close as she reflected on the situation. “I’ve got a plan, see. In a dozen cycles or so, I think we’re going to be able to settle down, make a life for ourselves. I’m happy, I really am, but I just don’t know how to deal with it. And it’s got to be even harder for the poor humans. I mean, shit, Lucretia’s been at this for over eighty percent of her life now, it’s practically been her whole life. How are we supposed to go back to a normal life, after everything that we’ve been through? It’s not like we can just wave a wand and _whoosh_ , we’re back home. I mean, one of us could _die_ , and it would _stick_ , not counting Barold and I. We should’ve made Taako a lich, too.”

The Umbra Staff listened, impassive as ever. She sighed, running a hand across its canopy. If only there was an easy answer, an easy solution, a way for them to all go back to how it used to be. But all the Wishing in the world couldn’t do that. At the very least, it was nice to get it all off her chest.

Sighing, she moved to clean up. It was easy enough to Fireball the rest of the transfigured food away, and when it was folded up the picnic blanket fit into her basket. It was about time to get headed back; she had big plans for dinner tonight, plans that involved burning her remaining spell slots and cooking up quite the feast. Maybe something Tesseralian, even — as difficult to cook as it was delicious.

Well, as grim as the topic had gotten in the end, it had at least been a nice date. She could feel _something_ from the Umbra Staff, too — not words, nothing so direct, but a kind of warmth and softness that she could only describe as happy contentment. Whatever the two of them had, it was mutual, and it was precious.

“How was the date?” Barry asked as soon as it was just the two of them. Sweet as he was, he’d volunteered to help chop vegetables — he might not know cloves from coriander, but he could hold a knife just fine.

“It was great! You know, I was a little nervous, but it wasn’t weird at all. Well, it was a little weird, but well within the bounds of acceptable.” She smiled. “Hey, chop the onions a little finer. This isn’t a chunky stew. Nobody wants a huge bite of onion.”

“Sorry, sorry. Like this?”

“No, no, like this.” A simple Mage Hand was all it took to grab the knife.

“Oh, I see. Thanks.”

“No problem. Better to go too big than too little. You can always cut more, but you can’t recombine them. Hey, Barry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being so cool about this. I mean, I knew about your other wife from the start, you know? You didn’t know I was going to go off dating someone new.”

“Oh, don’t stress it, Lup. You know, if you ask me, the most beautiful thing in the whole universe is love. And seeing you in love with someone else is… well, it’s just incredible, Lup. It’s like sharing a meal with your best friend — half the fun is watching them enjoy the food.”

“That’s not really a good metaphor, Barry.”

“I’m a scientist, not a writer.” He smiled. “But Lup, I couldn’t be more excited to see you passionate about someone. That’s the best feeling of them all.”

“Thanks, Barry. Now I’ve just got to figure out how to break it to the team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, another chapter down! As per the usual, I'm trying to update at least once a week. I think this'll probably have four chapters, like its predecessor, but I'm not sure - we'll see. After this is done, who knows? I kind of want to write something about Upsy, but it'll depend...
> 
> Given the focus given to how Lup is literally one of the most powerful evocationists ever born, I wanted to make her 20th level. 20th level wizards get two 3rd-level signature spells - Fireball was obvious; I picked Catnap because I imagine both Lup and Taako enjoy the ultimate 10-minute power-nap. From a power level perspective, there are probably better choices. 
> 
> As per the usual, you can catch me on tumblr at mecha-dog-marron, and learn more about OS people at os-positive.tumblr.com!


	3. Telling the Team

“Hey, Koko, you got the sauce?”

“On it, Lulu.”

Taako pulled the delicate herbal wine sauce from the front burner and onto the back, pausing to take a taste, add another sprig’s worth of finely chopped fresh basil. Lup took the opportunity to chop some more before checking on the four chickens that were mid-roast.

She hadn’t managed to choke out her confession the day of her date — nor did she manage it the next day, or the next week, or the next month, for that matter. Now, with only a few weeks left on the Arcaneum, it felt like now or never. Her team was her _family_ ; of course she wanted them to know about what mattered to her. It was just, well, kind of terrifying.

They wouldn’t abandon her; they wouldn’t stop being her family. She knew that — she didn’t worry about that kind of loss at all. But she didn’t want it to be weird or awkward, didn’t want Magnus to hesitate before sparring with her because she was using her weird datemate staff, didn’t want Lucretia writing weird, private details of her life into those journals of hers. Lucretia’s dedication to writing down even the most minute details of their journey was admirable, as was her willingness to go back to her journal from 40 planes ago to win a minor argument, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily a great thing to put up with.

At least dinner was turning out well. Nobody could be that uncomfortable when they had half a chicken with roasted root vegetables. It was plain and simple fact. The recipe was a classic from their home plane; the sauce was Tesseralian-inspired, if not entirely authentic, with a delicate-yet-accessible flavor profile. Merle had taken their efforts to grow Tesseralian sweetroot quite seriously, and the authentically grown-not-conjured flavor gave the dish an air of authenticity. Anyone would enjoy it.

“Hey, Lulu, you know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, right? It’s your relationship, not theirs. It’s nobody’s business but yours. I don’t mind only giving you shit when it’s the two of us. I mean, you didn’t tell us about Barold for years.”

“I know, I just want them to know, right? They’re family. And with how close we are to the end, well, it feels like I want the air to be clear when we step out onto our new home plane. Also, with Barry, well, if something happens to him, he comes back. Same with his jeans, since he wore them onto the ship. The Staff? If I leave it behind, it’s gone. If everyone knows how important it is to me, they’re less likely to forget it if I’m ever stuck somewhere I can’t escape. All the lich form in the world won’t save me from a Banishment or an Imprisonment.”

“Yeah, I get it. I promise that if you kick it or whatever I’ll do whatever I can to save your ugly-ass staff, by the way.”

“Thanks, Koko. I really appreciate it. You think we have another half an hour on these, or…?”

He took a look at the chickens. “Yeah, deffo. Good call on the four chickens. I don’t know how Maggie eats so much, and I’m not sure I want to know.” Taako wasn’t a small eater (or, for that matter, a particularly small elf) but nobody could put away food like their resident Fighter. “Timing looks good on the veggies, too. Gonna do anything else?”

“I thought about a salad, but it’s not like we’re not going to have leftovers already, and the greens on this planet just aren’t that good. These guys think too much about artifacts and not enough about food. I mean, half the students literally eat nutrient gruel for half their meals.”

“I know, right? It’s not even good nutrient gruel. And salad with conjured greens, that’s a big no-no.”

“You know, I still don’t get how I can literally permanently turn myself into an ancient brass dragon, but I can’t turn some rocks into really good spinach. It’s baffling. I’m sure I could burn a Wish on spinach, but with all the limitations on that…”

The conversation carried on as they finished off the feast, bantering back and forth about magic and salad and other easy, uncontroversial topics. It felt like only scant minutes later she was setting the table with cut chicken, the pieces selected carefully based on everyone’s preferences, carefully dressed and basted with a collection of roasted root vegetables. As much as it pained her, she even set the ketchup down by Barry’s seat. If he wanted to ruin the carefully developed flavor experience she’d created with his tomato condiments, she couldn’t stop him.

“This is going to go great, Lulu. If it doesn’t, well, Fireball at the table is a go.”

“Look, Koko, I love the support, but Fireball at the table is _one hundred percent_ banned. I worked damn hard on this dinner, and I am _not_ having it turned into charcoal just because Merle decided to make an inappropriate joke or something. No dueling at the table.”

“Lulu, I —”

“Don’t give me the guilt trip. All dueling is _post_ -dinner.”

“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes. “Want me to go grab everyone?”

“Yeah, and tell them to make it snappy. Not that my magic won’t keep the food warm, but I’m hungry, and this shit is way too tempting.”

It took a good fifteen minutes for her brother to gather everyone, which was faster than usual; it didn’t hurt that he teleported Merle, straggler that he was, directly into the dining room. By the time they’d all taken their places at the round table, Barry on her left and Taako on her right as per the (frequently switched up) usual, Magnus, having arrived early, was already halfway through his whole chicken.

“Enjoying your food, Maggie?” she asked. It might’ve been a terrifying situation, and might’ve been fidgeting with her staff to stay calm, but she was still a cook first and foremost.

“Yeah! You’re the best, Lup!” He flashed a bright grin.

“Taako helped. This is a Wonder Twins team effort.”

“He’s the best too!” Magnus didn’t bother waiting to finish his bite to speak, talking with his mouth full.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Taako grinned. “You know it. Glad everyone showed this time.”

“Our studies are important, Taako.” Lucretia was serious as ever. Lup could dig it. “We need to preserve as much of this knowledge as possible. We may have the Light, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be able to phone this plane any time we’d like.”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, I cooked everyone a bomb-ass dinner tonight for a reason, and it wasn’t just because I felt like showing off.” She reached a hand under the table to take Taako’s, her other in Barry’s, her elbows rested on her staff, the unfortunate side-effect of having more than two incredibly important, comforting people in her life. “Everyone, I’ve been — well, it’s not really lying or anything, but I’ve been less than forthcoming about something important to me. You all know about Barry’s pants thing, right?”

“Yup.”

“Sure do.”

“Well, I also have a thing. An umbrella thing.”

There was a beat of silence, then Merle grinned. “A… _wooden_ umbrella thing?”

“Merle, I swear to God I am not afraid to ninth-level Disintegrate you. Lucretia, stop writing all this down. The people of the future do not need to know I’m in love with an umbrella I made partially as a joke.”

“So it was a joke!”

“Shut it, Koko.”

“Lup, it’s very important that we spare no details in talking about each plane we visit. There’s no way of knowing what information could be key to defeating the Hunger, or what our knowledge can be used for. It’s my duty as journal-keeper to ensure all of the information is safely rendered.”

“Creesh, I love you, really, but this isn’t planar stuff. This is just me stuff. Do you write down all of Merle’s weird and _completely inappropriate at this table_ jokes?”

“Well, no, but — I mean, you don’t seem to be joking. If this is something that’s important to you, it’s important to all of us, and if something is important to us, I write it down.”

Lup really wanted to argue back, but Lucretia’s resolve was unbreakable, her gaze somehow both steely and empathetic. It was a very _her_ kind of look. Lup rolled her eyes. “Anyone else want to weigh in?”

“If you’re going to cook like this every time you fall in love, I think we need more umbrellas around,” Magnus replied, taking another huge bite of his chicken. He hadn’t even touched his potatoes. “Or smart, funny guys in sturdy jeans.”

“Thanks, Maggie.”

“You’ve put out excellent results during this planar cycle. This clearly isn’t keeping you from your work, and you’ve been in good spirits.” Davenport smiled. “I don’t really think it’s our business who you date.”

“She’s family, of course it’s our business! You let me know if that umbrella of yours causes any trouble and I’ll give it a very stern talking-to!” Magnus was cheerful as ever, at least. She couldn’t imagine having any trouble — he’d only been hurt by the Barry situation because it had taken so many cycles for him to admit his pants-loving ways — but it was still comforting.

“Well, if you need any tips for _caring for wood_ , you know who to ask.”

She grabbed her staff, pointing it at him. “I will literally kill you. They’ll ask — how did Merle die this cycle? And I’ll tell everyone — it was his stupid jokes.”

“Hey, hey, not joking! Us clerics use a wide variety of holy wooden implements. Maintaining their health and longevity is important to the craft.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Annoying as it was, it would’ve been weirder if he hadn’t joked.

“Now we just need Taako to fall in love with a trendy yet timeless blouse, and the cycle will be complete.”

“Don’t you even joke about that, Barold.” Taako glared at him.

Lup laughed, watching her beloved brother and dear husband argue at the table, Lucretia up to her usual notes, Magnus more focused on food and family than any umbrella antics, Merle considering whether eating a Disintegrate was worth sharing whatever stupid joke he’d just come up with.

She couldn’t imagine why she’d worried at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one or two more to write, then it's on to the next thing! There'll probably be another chapter next week, unless I get distracted by other projects. 
> 
> As always, I'm mecha-dog-marron on tumblr. If you're curious about human-object relationships, check out OS-Positive on tumblr for more info!


	4. Alone Together

Faerun was a beautiful plane, almost a perfect mirror of their own Prime Material Plane. Merle shared blood with some local dwarves; the sun elves weren’t so different from Taako and her — a relief after many planes of elves whose ears, eyes, expressions were completely foreign. They could blend in, looking like a bunch of locals. No one saw the Starblaster land. The Light landed less than a mile from their ship. It seems like an impossible turn of fate — like the whole universe heard her plan and said _yes_.

They’d taken the Light and split it, each piece becoming artifacts that resembled their crafts. At the time, staff in hand, she’d thought she was doing the right thing. The gauntlet was meticulous, beautiful, each and every detail building on its sense of grandeur. Just a glance could confirm its power, and though she didn’t keep it for long — fully aware of what her plan required — her tests made it perfectly clear how incredibly powerful it was. That kind of raw strength didn’t appeal like the class and grace of her staff, but it was still a sight to behold.

Then she put it into the world, and the killing started.

“Barry, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. Maybe we should just — maybe we should just grab all the pieces and leave. This plane, they don’t deserve being a sacrifice. We can try again, on a plane with less people on it, stronger-willed people on it. We can try Lucretia’s plan. Even being totally cut off, even without the gods, even with all their souls trapped to wander, they’d be better off than this.” They were lounging on the couch together, her brother, her husband, and her. On another plane, it might’ve been fun, might’ve been good times. Here, it was just more anxiety, more regrets.

Barry sighed, wrapping an arm around her. “I won’t judge you, whatever we do. It’s not a fair situation we’ve been put in, and it might not be fair what we’re doing to the people of Faerun, but it’s not fair what happened to us, either. If we re-unify the Light, they have to fight the Hunger — it’ll chase us for the Light, but you know how much damage it can do.”

“Yeah.” It was impossible to forget it, how violent the Hunger’s rage could be even when deprived of its goal. “I wish we could just blow up the Hunger. Cast a couple meteor strikes, maybe blow a Wish on wanting it dead — and bam, it’s gone. I don’t like the idea of something being too big to fight the traditional way.” She ran a hand across her staff, feeling its energy. It might not’ve responded in words, but she could tell it agreed with her — that it liked enemies that she could take down in a duel, that it could turn into dinner.

Taako nodded. “Let me turn into Dupree and get a bite of that homie, right? I feel it. We can only do what we can do. Think of it this way — at least we’ve got each other. All these guys, they were fucked from the start. We’re just the ones making the choices.”

“They’re not choices anyone should have to make.”

“No, they’re not. But Lulu, these are the choices we _have_ to make.” Taako leaned over, running his hands through her hair — a calming gesture since they were kids, one she’d blast anyone else for, anyone but her shipmates. “It was never fair, you know? But we do what we have to do. The Hunger’s not fair.”

“And if our calculations are accurate, it should only take a century or two for the Hunger to wither up without being able to glean energy from the Light. Which — it’s a long time, but when it’s over, the Hunger’s going to be dead, and we can recollect the pieces. The people here will rebuild. The people on the devoured planes don’t even get that chance. Whatever you want to do, I’ll support. I don’t think we really have a right option.”

“Thanks, Barold.” Lup sighed. “…let’s turn in for the night, guys. I don’t think we’re going to figure anything out now.”

“Good plan.” Many, many planes ago, they’d managed to find a triple-width mattress to haul into Barry’s cabin. Sometimes it was just Lup and Barry, of course, whether or not they were doing the kinds of things they wouldn’t want Taako around for; sometimes it was just the twins, enjoying some quiet time together while Barry researched late in the night. Every then and again it’d even be just Taako and Barry, taking comfort in one another’s company when Lup was away or otherwise indisposed. Often, it was all three of them. On nights like these, it was the only way she could sleep, with the most important people in her life around her, reminders of what she _hadn_ _’t_ lost, not yet. Barry slept in his jeans most of the time, and she didn’t judge him for it. Taako didn’t complain when she brought her staff to bed. All of them together was a kind of comfort she couldn’t live without anymore.

But when she woke up at three in the morning, her boys still slumbering, phantom visions of ashes and screams in her head, she couldn’t help but slip away. She needed to think about this, really think about this, go over it with someone who wasn’t so biased, who had an outside perspective. Someone who really cared about her still, but could step outside the problem — someone who wasn’t discussing the failure of their own plans.

In the few short years between meeting it and now, Lup had mostly gotten over the strange feeling that came with talking to the Umbra Staff, had mostly gotten used to its limited but very apparent communication. She could tell what it was thinking, could tell its opinion. Could trust it with an issue her brother and lover were both too close to see clearly.

“Darling,” she began, not bothering to put on an air of calmness, “I don’t know what to do. My gauntlet has become something absolutely _horrifying_. The humans and dwarves and elves and everyone out there, they’re killing each other with it, they’re killing themselves with it. They try to use it but the thrall takes over and there’s nothing left of them. I don’t know what to do. I can bring it back here, but we don’t know how long it’ll take the Hunger to locate it without folks seeking it out and masking its signals.”

She got the feeling the Umbra Staff just wished it could eat the damn thing. That would’ve been quite the sight; she didn’t even want to know what kind of magic her staff would gain from that. In any case, her spellwork wasn’t nearly strong enough for it. It would kill the Staff to try, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that.

“Not workable, unfortunately. It’s a shame, because I’m sure you could safely contain it. I wish we could just throw it in a volcano or a vault or somewhere else totally unworkable, though. But if people don’t crave it, the Hunger can find it, no matter how small a piece it is. Otherwise we’d just confetti-shred the whole thing and be done with it, you know?”

She ran a hand down the staff. Its fibers didn’t hold the novelty they once did, but they were comforting as ever. It was all going to be okay. The situation wasn’t good, but there had to be something better, a better option. She’d find it.

“I mean, no one’s going to crave after it if they think it’s completely impossible to get to. We’d have to — we’d have to make it seem possible, but make the barrier insurmountable somehow. A vault, probably. Tell everyone there was an artifact of unimaginable power, and guard it as best we could.”

She looked at the staff and surpassed the urge to laugh.

“Yeah, I think it would be easier if we could just eat it too. Can you imagine eating a Grand Relic? What kind of dumbass would do that? We should’ve made edible artifacts. Instead of an explosion machine, I could’ve made the best grill in the world. Steak all day, every day.” It wouldn’t’ve worked, of course, but it was a charming mental image. “You know, we are good artificers. We could probably make a dungeon of some sort, a labyrinth. We might have to let the artifacts out in the world once or twice a decade, just to — just to keep the memory alive, but we could restrict it. You’d have plenty of wizards to chew on. What do you think?”

The Staff was warm, comfortable, agreeable. Anything that would make it easier for them, anything that would keep her from tracking glass circles. Problems that could be solved with violence, she was good at those. Problems that could be solved with negotiation, well, she’d always been a bit of a grifter. Problems that took hardening the heart, those were Taako’s domain. She’d never been able to do it.

It was a good idea, one Barry and Taako would undoubtedly try to talk her out of. She needed to get a head start without them. A proof of concept.

The note was scrawled out quickly, sealed with a kiss, left in plain sight; with any luck, she’d be back in a week or two tops. She couldn’t let them know, not yet. She needed to do this. It needed to be ready when she told them, needed a proof of concept.

Staff in hand, she left the Starblaster, headed towards the last known location of the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet.

A week later, she headed into Wave Echo Cave.

A week later, she breathed her last breath, at least in that particular body.

A week later, the third love of her life ate her soul.

She didn’t feel afraid, didn’t feel alone, didn’t feel angry. She had created the staff for a purpose and it had dutifully carried it out, loyal to its task until the end. It was comforting, as she struggled to stay conscious of the world around her, struggled to coalesce her powers, to know she was at least surrounded by something she knew, something she loved. The fabric was soft, the temperature comfortable. She wasn’t even bored, in that space, freed from the constraints of a physical mind.

It was a different kind of existence, her life in there. Sometimes she’d sing, and feel the walls of the staff reverberate around her, joining in in their own unique way. Sometimes she’d compose terrible poetry, mostly shitty limericks, just to keep her thinking mind functioning, to keep her brain going. But mostly she meditated, remembering the good old days, the days that allowed her to maintain her lich form. Her wedding, her best day with Taako, her best day with Barry, her first date with the Staff, all those good moments in their terrible journey. She didn’t need a wand to cast, so she practiced her spells, entertaining herself with illusionary dragons and clones and grand feasts. Casting outside the staff, channeling through it, that was difficult, but within its mystical confines she could cast freely, openly.

Sometimes she thought about what they could’ve done different, about how they could have averted it, but all the thinking in the world didn’t offer an answer. Life was unfair, existence was unfair, the Hunger was unfair. They were just doing their best. Her plan had led to this; Lucretia’s would’ve been the end of Faerun entirely. Doing nothing meant leaving the people here to fight the Hunger. There was no good answer.

Sometimes it was easy being in the staff, letting herself slip away into the days before they’d tried to actually fix things, the days when they’d just lived as best they could. Sometimes all she could do was wrap those inky black curtains around herself and cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More next week, as usual. I think next week will be the end of Under My Umbrella, but I'm not positive; depends on how it goes! It should be much shippier and cheerier - it's hard to put a positive spin on these particular events in canon, unfortunately.


	5. Rebuilding

When Taako frees her from the staff, snapping the beautifully worked wood to free her spectral form from her prison, she doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t know what to feel — the beauty of freedom, the pain of loss, the confusion of suddenly having to orient herself in the real world. She doesn’t know what to say. _I missed you so much, Koko_ , she thinks, and _Barry, I_ _’m so glad to see you again_ , and, in some little part of her, _wasn_ _’t there another way_? She wants to scream, to cry, to dance. She wanted her family back and she _got_ it, most of it, but the cost hurts like hell and she doesn’t quite know how to handle it.

What comes out of her mouth, of course, is: “You’re dating the _grim reaper?!_ ”

And then they’re laughing, and then they’re fighting, more important things to worry about during the apocalypse than her brother’s boyfriend, and then there’s nothing to think about but spellwork, magecraft. The freedom of just casting, of feeling magic flow from finger to foe, feels almost unnatural after so long cooped up in the Staff; spells in the inner world just weren’t the same as real craft. Taking down one of the judges feels almost unreal. If they hadn’t had their anti-casting zone, back on that plane, the six of them could’ve stood a chance, maybe. Probably not, but at least some damage could’ve happened.

They all saw the Hunger get bubbled, all saw that golden light swallow it up and destroy it. If she was the most powerful Evocationist, Lucretia must’ve been the most powerful Abjurationist, even with the Light of Creation’s help. When it’s all over, when the last messes are cleaned up, when nobody’s at risk anymore, Taako is immediately at her side, Barry right there with him, and the three of them can’t really do anything but collapse together, one big cuddle pile in Barry’s weird cave base. Without a body, she can’t participate in the same way, but she and Barry have been sharing as needed for years. It’s no problem to overshadow him.

There’s no need for words. She can hear her brother’s heartbeat again for the first time in years, can feel her husband’s hands interlocked together with her brother’s even if she can’t feel them in her own just yet. Relaxing against them, knowing that they’re all together, that it’s all going to be okay, that it’s _over_ , finally — that’s priceless.

There’s no more Hunger. There’s no more running. Their home plane is alive, somehow, and maybe she’ll have to make some tech to bring them back there, but she can’t imagine staying. Taako’s made a life here in the decade he spent without her, has grown up a little, learned a little. As much as it hurts to think about, there were things he couldn’t do as long as she was there, things that took real independence, longer than just the unfortunate months after she died in those early years. Now he’s gone and done them and grown. She needs him, he needs her, but he’s making his own place. She’d never gotten on too well with anyone from there, anyways. Had time passed? Would Greg Grimaldis still be there? Would Barry’s students still be at the university?

Big questions. Not questions for today her, who needed her brother and her husband. Not questions for tomorrow her, who needed to mourn, needed to remember what she’d lost. But the combination of an elvish lifespan and being a lich meant she had literally all the time in the world.

It was Taako who brought the possibility up first, when he found her sitting out by the lake, staring at the broken handle of her third love. “You kept the pieces of your staff.”

“Yeah.”

“We could fix it, Lulu. You didn’t use any of the Light’s power the first time around. Anyways, I kind of miss using it, and watching you fix it would probably be enough to teach me how to make another one.”

She wanted to say it wouldn’t be the same, wanted to say that what was gone was gone, there was something in Taako’s eyes that stopped her, a kind of guilt. It seemed almost foreign on his face; he was a man who neither sought nor offered forgiveness, who spent very little time with regret. He wasn’t going to apologize, no, but this was the closest he was going to offer. And she knew full well how he must be feeling, to offer even that much.

And, well, she’d gone and died a dozen times, and she was the same as ever. Why couldn’t a staff do the same?

“That’s a great idea, Koko. I need something to do while I wait for my body to grow anyways. You think you could be my… hands, so to speak? I promise it won’t be weird.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll blame any weirdness on Barry. I like to think everything’s his fault anyways.”

“Hey, don’t harsh his vibe. He’s our second pair of hands.”

“Mage Hand is our second pair of hands.”

“He’s our third pair of hands.” She couldn’t really stand, but she levitated up from the lich equivalent of sitting. “And we’ll get you your staff, too, Koko. Might want to avoid the vore powers, though, given the occupational hazard of living around liches. I wonder if it could trap your bone boy?”

“Probably better to leave that feature off,” he agreed.

“Yeah. You know, it’s not that bad. It was bad when I had to see you in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it, but like, in general? Weirdly comfortable. I didn’t have my full consciousness, so it wasn’t like I could experience pain or fear or boredom. Maybe we need an Umbra Spa.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that’d go over great with the rest of the team.”

“I’m just saying! Everyone’s all like, oh, how horrible, being trapped in an umbrella, but I think I got the easy job! I just got to sit around casting spells and sleeping!”

“Finally got in all that missing beauty sleep?”

“You know it.” It shouldn’t’ve been so easy to talk about what they’d all gone through, but she and Taako had been together for literally forever; if they couldn’t joke about her decade-long imprisonment, who could? “Ugh, I miss food. Why does Barry’s Clone machine take so long anyways? We have to plan a first meal together…”

In the end, they plan on their aunt’s turkey recipe, the one Taako had made for her back on the plane of magic. In the end, they do leave the vore feature off of Taako’s newly minted staff, and off of the smaller one she makes as a gift for Angus, both test runs at getting used to the mystical energies she’d once shaped without a thought.

In the end, they fix her staff. It took time, but without a body she couldn’t do much on her own, and fuck if Taako was about to go help with rebuilding efforts outside of offering his magnanimous smile up to inspire the rest of the B.O.B.

When they were done, there was a ring of metal where there had once been nothing but smooth wood, each broken end cut to a smooth line and bonded to it. It resembles a ring, although she’s wasn’t the type of girl to marry without fifty-some years of time to get to know one another. Still not a bad look. It adjusted the balance just ever so slightly, but not in a bad way, just in a way that would take getting used to. She didn’t totally disable the eating function; it was so core to who her staff was that she just couldn’t bring herself to do it, any more than she could take eating away from her brother. But she made it a phylactery, ensured she could go inside to retrieve anything that was eaten, at least if it hadn’t been digested yet. It was what she should’ve done from the start, but there’s no use in regret.

And when it was complete, safe, she took it into her spectral form and headed out to the woods.

It was easy to feel small beneath the towering arbor. For all the Hunger had destroyed, the trees near Barry’s cave at the edge of the Felicity Wilds were enormous, grown strong with centuries of undisturbed growth and with the magical energies that swirled all around them. It was quiet, peaceful to be among them, and not exclusively because the average citizen was too scared of chimeras and hydras and the like to enjoy its serene beauty. There was something about the place that made her wish she had her violin.

She might have to take back up composing.

“It’s been a while,” she told the staff. It felt weird again, like it had at the very start, but not entirely _bad_. “A lot’s happened, you know. We defeated the Hunger, actually. My brother, he was part of the assault team with Lucretia. He’s grown a lot since it was just the seven of us. I think it’s been good for him, you know? And I took down one of the Judges, that was pretty dope. Would’ve been badass if you were there. I guess they’re not really casters, but there had to be some kinda magic in those to eat.”

She couldn’t comfort herself with its texture, not in this form; her magic might’ve let her lift items, but she didn’t have the same degree of feeling as her hands did. Even so, she ran them across its handle, if only out of something approximating muscle memory. “It’s been… well, it’s overwhelming, really. Everyone’s gone and grown up without me. Barry’s still the same, and Dav hasn’t changed much, but if you told me Creesh would turn into who she is today I would’ve never believed it. You’re pretty much the same, though, aren’t you?”

With a sigh, she floated up to the branches of the tree, giving herself a better view of the forest beneath. “Do you think Taako and Barry would build a treehouse with me? That’d be fuckin’ rad. Koko and I never really had the chance as kids, back in New Elfington, and then we were always on the move. We’re all mages, we could figure out some way to get a full kitchen in there. What do you think?”

The staff was unresponsive as ever, and it might’ve just been her projecting, but she liked to think it agreed with her, that it could enjoy the whole thing too. A treehouse definitely meant dicking around dueling one another, after all, and casting Fireballs, and lighting and putting out fires, and all the kind of goofy shit three best friends (two of whom were married, and two of whom were siblings) could possibly get up to.

They were home now, weren’t they? They’d all gotten their happy endings. Taako was still in talks with Kravitz on their behalf, but it didn’t even sound like they’d get stuck living the classical fighting-the-gods-style lich life. She was going to get a body back, going to kiss Barry again, going to collapse in a big sleepy-time pile with her husband and her brother and her staff that was distinctly uncuddly put got its own place on the virtue of how much she loved the damn thing.

No more scraping by - she was going to actually _live_ again. The staff seemed to pulse with energy, as if sensing her excitement, the sheer joy that bubbled up through her. They were free.

“You know,” she told the staff, a bright smile on her face, “I think it’s all going to be alright from now on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo, that's complete! Thank you everyone who read this, especially Hatch! I think I'm probably going to write something a little different next, but I'm not sure - I should have something or another posted by the week's end.
> 
> As always, you can catch me on tumblr at mecha-dog-marron if you have questions or any requests!

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! I was super inspired when I wrote this. As per the usual, I'll try to put something up within a week.
> 
> As always, you can catch me on tumblr at mecha-dog-marron! If you're reading this and you're curious about human-object relationships, check out the About OS page on OSP!: https://os-positive.tumblr.com/about


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